Borders

I drew a line.
For trespassers,
Prosecution
You drew a line.
A layer,
Semipermeable.
Everyone has lines
Different lines, different rules
Boxing them in.
You hold them at a line's length
A box away.
But the world grew smaller
And smaller
And smaller still
Till there was no line's length
No boxes
Till we knew all our neighbours
We saw each other
Unrefracted
Through personal bubbles.

Story-Teller

He held the power to weave spells.
He didn't look like much, on the get-go, in fact, seemed like a mousy nerd-type.
But it was when he began to speak that I met her. She's the spell he creates, every time the same one.
She's got piercing eyes that look right into your soul, they build bridges from his soul to yours, actually. She laughs a lot, a sound that makes you wonder why his words are so sad.
Her hair, that's what gives her away. She looks like the girl next door, until you notice her hair. Her hair is shiny and straight, bobbed just under her left ear, and extending in gradually increasing lengths till it nearly touches her right shoulder.
That's her personality, the surprise of an offbeat haircut.
It's the lurking danger of a forest fire on a calm summer afternoon.
That's the reason he's got volumes of emotion to convey.
She's brilliant, as is he. And together, they were as much a perfect fit as they were mutually poisonous.
He knows she exists. I know I'm not the only once who can see her.
She floats around him, chuckling softly at his funnier lines, leaning against him when it gets emotional, and once, when he performed a poem I'll never forget, she stood next to him, holding his hand, all through.
He talks to her, and this is why; even though I've never met her, even though I suspect I'm smitten just hearing about her through his verbal assault on my senses, seeing how he is because of her, I hate her.
He weaves spells for us to get swept along with, so that nobody notices that this is the time he spends only with her.
He'll walk away, thunderous applause following him, oblivious to everything as she leads him, fading a little with every step.
He knows she's not really there, she's walked out of his life a long time back. He knows that it's his heartache to bear. He knows that she's living her life somewhere, laughing that laugh, hiding her volatility better, with a new haircut, new people in her life, with a new life.
He needs to write, needs to feel, needs to be there, on that stage, because if he fails to, she'll never return.
And so he'll be back.
Grinning at us all, making us ache for reasons unknown to us.
Because she'll be back, then. She'll hold his hand.

Pi

I always identified with you as a kid
A burden far too heavy to lift
It was more than thrice your value
But if anyone could do it, it was you

Whenever you came up, I was torn
Between options I'd to pick all on my own
But decimal or fraction,
You were a good distraction
From the host of calculations
Still to come.

Capable of being a part of many lives
Math or science, as you'd decide
Jack of all, integral to calculation
A multitasking force of existence
With a finger in many pies
Once in a while, a gastronomic surprise
The world would not survive
Without three point one four one five

Hop, Skip and Jump

Out of all the women he saw on a daily basis, she stood out.

“Which is odd on so many levels…” he mused, lying in bed, looking out into the dark, “Because not only are they hotter, they’re also taller. And more insistent…”

But she had managed to catch his attention; and keep it, which was a bigger miracle. He’d seen so many people walk off that stage, but she had been the only person he’d been actively looking for. He didn’t know when his interest in poetry suddenly spiked, but now he was watching videos online, some, coincidentally, featuring her… Actually, all of them were featuring her; he still didn’t really give a rat’s ass about poetry.

His phone buzzed, surprising him out of his reverie. “Who’s still awake? It’s like 2am!”

He checked his phone and his heart skipped a beat… It was a text from her. “You’re awake?”

Ding

“I’m usually up at this time. And inclined to reply, coz the daft WhatsAppers are asleep.”

He sniggered. Sounded like an insane person. “But damnit, I like her insanity.”

He couldn’t wait to meet her; to talk to her outside of work, to play with that hair of hers… She was so alluring in so many ways, he couldn’t think of her without thinking of that first glimpse he got of her, shrugging off the jacket he now knew she always wore. He’d made a mental note to make sure he saw what she was like on stage, and when she’d stepped up, he had made a mental note to ensure he didn’t miss a single minute of her being up there.

Her eyes mesmerised him. And her hands, her hair, her grin, and oh holy God, all those expressions!

He smiled into nothingness now, as he thought of her inhumanly animated face. She was something else.

And he was going to meet her tomorrow. “Or, today, actually… It’s almost time…”

The thought gave him goosebumps. He’d be able to talk to her without work interrupting them, without friends watching, without that guy… She was always with some guy… Was she dating him? Anyway… He’d find out tomorrow, when they’d finally get to talk without a million pointless things annoying them.

***

The hands of his watch told him that their date had begun an hour ago, and here he was, still sitting in traffic. He’d called her, told her that he was running late, and had known from her response that she didn’t really expect him to make it. He couldn’t really blame her; he’d been planning to meet her every Monday for the last two months, and had to cancel. Even this meeting had been postponed, and he’d be damned if he let that happen again.

He heaved a sigh of relief as he reached, hearing her incredulity over the phone lines with a grimace. The next few minutes were the worst torture he’d been through. Suddenly, all he could think about was how annoyed she’d be, the surety that she was dating that guy, or that other guy, or maybe someone he hadn’t met yet, and it was insane.

“Get a grip,” he muttered to himself, “You’re the party-starter, you know how to get people talking. Get her a drink or so, and you’re in the clear.”

He sighed in relief as he saw her walking towards him. He’d been sure that this was never going to happen.

She was smiling, she was obviously not too mad “Oh my God, it’s really… You have a Royal Enfield?”

“Hi…”

Wow, that was an inane greeting… “Arre ya, I always wanted to buy an Enfield, they’re awesome bikes. Hop on.”

He twisted around at a slightly painful angle, just so he could see her as she hopped on. He grinned at her as she looked around absent mindedly for a place to hold on. “Shall we?”

She looked up at him, eyes grinning right back “What’s so funny? Never seen a short person on a bike before?”

He turned around with a snort, starting the bike with a sigh of relief. This was going to be fun.

***

‘She’s having a good time!’ his brain was screaming the joyous news at him as he looked at her excitedly talking at him. ‘At’ because he wasn’t listening to a word she was saying. She looked so enthusiastic, so happy, that he couldn’t do anything but look.

“So… I should leave…”

He snapped out of his reverie as she sighed and looked up at him, already moving herself away from the bike.

“DO SOMETHING!” his brain screeched. He couldn’t let this end so soon, it had only been… Four hours. He wanted more of her time, he wanted to see her like this, without a thousand people vying for her attention and pulling him away. He wanted to get her to stay back, not leave, give him more Mondays.

He reached out, hugged her and decided never to let go. Her hands wound around his waist, feeling perfect in the cool night. “Don’t let her go…” his brain told him.

“Don’t leave me… Stay here.” He told her.

She pulled back and looked up at him, eyes shining in the streetlamp “I would… But Bombay…”

He sighed “I know, I know… You do what you have to do.”

But he couldn’t let her go without letting her know that she was more than ‘those chicks you meet everyday’ that she kept talking about. He had seen her eyes shut down every time she said that, and now he knew she’d been freaking out about how many women he saw. She needed to know that she was different.

So he pulled her close, cupped her head in his hand and kissed her. He knew he’d done the right thing the second he felt her relax. This had been what she’d been waiting for… The sign she hadn’t expected. He loved how she felt in his arms, she was perfect, seemed to melt into his hug, he wanted never to have to stop kissing her.

***

He walked in to work that day and felt lonelier than he ever had before. She’d been here the week before. He could still see her with that amazing energy and that stupid sock on her hand. Everywhere he turned, he saw her absence, and all these women… But not the bundle of magic that she had been, every curl of her hair alive with her presence, every place a little brighter because she was there…

He heaved a sigh and went to work, unsure of when the bar would be fun again.

Shadow

Ever tried and failed to forget someone? Here's what that's like...

Out Of Sight

Not a shirt on my back, the song runs
It's like a cruelly worded pun
Now that I'm out of sight.

You had said it's not the end
Said we'd meet again
Said this was not what we began for
Said our road would run on longer.
I believed in your poetry
Had no doubts about sincerity
Till you showed me that out of sight was truly
A mark less to tally...